Wrong job
by Skovko
Summary: It was supposed to be an easy and arousing job. He had been paid to kidnap and rape another man's girlfriend. He had been told it was her fantasy and that she was on board with the plan. Nothing about that was true.
1. Kidnapped

She struggled against the rope that held her wrists together above her head. She was lying on a couch, that much she could feel, and she was tied to what felt like a radiator at the end of it. She was blindfolded and had no clue where she was.

The day had started out normal enough. Nothing indicated everything was about to take a turn for the worst. She hadn't even felt like she was being followed. When she walked from the tunnel, a van had suddenly pulled up next to her. A man had jumped out and grabbed her from behind, dragged her into it, tied her hands behind her back and blindfolded her. She had never even seen his face. It all had went so fast.

"It's useless," a raspy voice suddenly spoke.

She let out a shriek of surprise. She didn't know the voice but it scared her. She suddenly felt a hand grab the robe between her wrists and shaking her arms up and down a bit.

"Completely useless. You can't get free," he said again.  
"Please," she whispered.  
"Begging is also useless although it is rather sweet that you'll try," he said in a amused voice. "Oh, and before you get the idea of trying it, so is screaming. No one will hear you so go ahead."

His hand let go off the rope and stroke over her face. She made a little sound as it ran further down over her breasts and down her stomach. He pushed her shirt up a bit and then she felt the tip of a knife landing on her stomach under her navel.

"What's your name?" He asked.

He already knew it but he wanted her to relax a bit. Well, as much as she could in the tense situation. She would know he wouldn't actually hurt her. She would know how this whole thing was gonna play out. Not in details, of course, that part was only for him to know but she would know the major plot of it all.

"Halina," she said lowly.

She held her breath in fear as his other hand popped open her jeans and pulled down the zipper.

"We're gonna have to much fun," he said and leaned into her ear. "My name's Dean. I hope you'll be screaming it soon enough."


	2. Frozen

He hadn't needed to tell her his name and normally he wouldn't do so. She should know it. After all, these women found him on his webpage where he wrote these sort of details. She wouldn't be any different. It wasn't unusual either that he only met up with the male part in the relationship when they agreed on the final details. It happened 8 out of 10 times. Most of these women wanted the ultimate experience of their fantasy, meaning they wouldn't wanna meet him first. However, Halina seemed different. He couldn't put his finger on it but something seemed different. Maybe even a bit off. Probably nerves. Maybe her first time into this sort of game even though most of these women had already played with their boyfriends and husbands. So telling her his name was just a simple way of him trying to put her mind at ease. He _was_ the man from the webpage, he _was_ Dean Ambrose.

He put the blade of the knife between his teeth so both his hands were free. He grabbed her jeans and started sliding them down her legs. This was the part that always set the women apart. The annoying ones would have a hard time not smiling and would even lift themselves up to help him, in general not playing their part at all. He never called them out on it. It was their money, it was their fantasy. Most of the women would play the part though and they would cry, beg, scream or even try to fight him.

Halina did neither. She just froze. He had never experienced that before. The jeans made a loud sound when he dropped them on the floor and for a few seconds he just stared at her. She was still frozen. He held a sigh within. Maybe this game was too much for her but there was a way out if she wanted it to stop. She did know the safe word. It was written on his webpage and her boyfriend John had said it out loud to prove he had read it. All she had to do was say it if she wanted out.

With the knife still between his teeth, he reached up and removed the blindfold. Maybe she would relax a bit if she saw with her own eyes that it really was him. Not that he wanted her to relax. He wanted her to fight or at least use her words or show some tears. Anything but being frozen.

She stared him directly in the eyes before dropping the gaze to the knife. John had specifically asked for that part and as always, he would deliver whatever the client wanted. He reached behind to take his wallet from the back pocket, opened it and took out a condom. He watched her carefully as her eyes followed his movement as he dumped the wallet down on the table and put the condom down as well.

That's when the tears started to flow. Finally, a reaction, _something_ he could use. She was there, she was present, she knew what was happening, although he would have liked some words or at least some change in her breathing along with those tears.

He took the knife in his hand again, ran the tip of it down her stomach, careful not to actually cut her, and stopped when he reached her panties. He hooked one finger inside them, lifted up the fabric as he had every intention to cut them off her.

She turned her head to the side, stared into the boring brown colour of the back of the couch, completely frozen again. So maybe it was the knife that scared her. Maybe she had thought she would like it a bit more hardcore than she actually could handle.

"I don't think I need this," he said and put the knife on the table.

She didn't even turn her head to see what he was talking about. She just kept staring at that ugly brown colour right in front of her. He hooked her panties again but something stopped him from actually pulling them off her. He always followed his guts and something felt very wrong to him.

"Hey," he said as he grabbed her chin.

He forced her head back up to look at him, breaking character in the process.

"Use the safe word if you want out," he said.  
"What safe word?" She asked in a whisper.  
"Did you forget it?" He asked as he put on a little smile.

She kept looking at him with fear printed all over her face and he could see it right away. She didn't forget it. She didn't know it to begin with.

"John said it when I met up with him. He said..." He started.  
"How do you know John?" She asked.

And that's when realisation hit him.

"Fuck!" He bawled.

He grabbed the knife again and she instantly froze completely by the sight of it. He moved it up and cut the rope holding her down before yanking her up to sit. He grabbed her bound wrists and moved the knife careful in between them to cut the remaining rope of her.

"Shit!" He hissed and ran his free hand through his hair. "Shit, fuck, ass!"

She sat completely still, too afraid to say or do anything. This strange man next to her was having some sort of fit and she was scared to be on the receiving end of it. He finally looked at her again and saw the fear still painted all over her face. He reached down, grabbed her jeans and placed them in her hands.

"Get dressed," he said as he stood up.

He started pacing the floor while she quickly got back into her jeans.

"Your boyfriend's a real ass," he finally stop pacing and looked at her. "He set you up. Damn, he set us both up. I can go to jail for this shit and I probably should. Do you wanna call the police?"  
"I just wanna go home," she said.

The tears were slowly starting to run down her cheeks again.

"Shit, Halina, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I'll take you home," he said.  
"No, I can walk," she quickly snapped.

She wanted nothing more than to get far away from this man and it couldn't happen fast enough.

"I need to show you something first," he said. "Please, sit down. It'll take two minutes and I promise you you'll be free to go afterwards."

She sat down on the edge of the couch, uncomfortable and really not wanting to stay in that house for another second. He grabbed a laptop from a shelf near by and sat down next to her while opening a webpage.

"I need you to understand that this is what I do. It's a job. I never intended on hurting you for real. It's usually you women who picks me out. I've never had someone do this," he said with a sigh.


	3. Do you understand?

She could hardly believe what she was seeing as she quickly looked through the webpage but there it all was. A picture of him, a short description about him being the ultimate bad boy fantasy, the safe word, what he was willing to do, his price.

"You really charge that much?" She asked.

He held a chuckle within. He had expected some sort of questions but he hadn't expected that to be the first one.

"For a normal kidnap and rape, yes. If people want extra, it costs extra," he answered.  
"Like what?" She asked.  
"Like... the knife for instance. John asked specific for it. It was 50 dollars extra," he answered.  
"Jesus," she muttered.

He placed the laptop on the table and looked at her.

"John contacted me. I thought you had picked me out yourself and sent him to set it up. That's usually how it goes," he said.  
"Does women really want this? To be raped by a stranger?" She asked.  
"You have no idea how many women has that fantasy," he answered and smirked.  
"That's sick," she said.  
"Hey, don't judge other people's sexlife. It might not be for you but if other people like it, let them have it," he said.  
"Can I go home now?" She asked with a sigh.

Of course she could. She was free to go. She wasn't his prisoner. There was just something he needed to get into her head first that seemed to not get through at all.

"Halina, do you understand what John did?" He asked.

She looked at him confused.

"John set this up. He knew you didn't want it," he said.

Still all he got was a confused look.

"Jesus, Halina," he said and ran his hand down his face. "John wanted you to get raped. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with him but he's sick. Do you understand? Do you understand what he did and what almost happened to you because of him?"  
"I don't believe you," she said lowly.  
"You don't believe me?" He laughed, not in amusement, more in disbelief. "Fine, I'll prove it to you."

He took out his phone and dialed a number. As it was answered in the other end, he gently placed his index finger on her lips.

"Hello John, it's Dean. The job's done. Where do you want to meet to settle the rest of the payment? Your house? Sure, I'll come around back. See you soon," he said and hung up.  
"The rest of the payment?" She asked.

He stared at her. Again, not the question he had expected to be the first one.

"I charge half before the show, like a deposit only they're not getting the money back. Some women wants out and uses the safe word so that's my way of still getting paid," he explained.

She just nodded and he let out a little sigh.

"Let's go," he said.  
"I don't wanna go back into that van," she said.  
"You're not. The van is only used for picking up clients. I have a normal car. I'll even let you drive it if it makes you feel more comfortable," he said.  
"No, no, that's alright," she said.


	4. Driving her home

For a little while they drove in silence. He tried holding his anger and frustration within. He always knew there was a posibility of something like this happening. He just never expected it to happen to him.

"Why don't you meet with the women to make sure they want it?" She suddenly asked.  
"It kills the fantasy for many of them," he answered.  
"So hire someone to do it for you," she said.  
"A middle man?" He chuckled.  
"Yeah, or woman would probably be best. A woman would connect better with them," she said.  
"You're looking for a job?" He asked amused.  
"No, I never wanna see you again after this," she answered.  
"I can't say I blame you," he said.

He parked the car on the street and looked at the house.

"Do you live here too?" He asked.  
"No, we don't live together," she answered.  
"Oh, thank god," he breathed out a sigh of relief.

She looked at him but didn't question him further about that comment.

"He said he was around back working on his tan and that I should just walk around the house to find him," he said.  
"Yeah, take the right side around," she said.  
"You're coming with me but you're gonna stand and wait by the wall while I walk back there and talk to him," he said.  
"But why?" She asked.  
"How you still don't get it is beyond me," he muttered before clearing his throat and raising his voice to a normal volume again. "Just stand and listen, okay?"  
"Okay," she said.

They left the car and started walking around the house together. He lifted his hand to stop her, shot her a look to make sure she understood she was supposed to stay, and then he turned the corner and saw John lying there. How he wanted to beat the crap out of him right away.

"John," he said.  
"Oh, hi Dean," John said and pointed to an envelope on the table. "Your money's there."

Dean walked over to the table but didn't pick up the envelope.

"So how did it go?" John asked.  
"As expected," Dean answered.  
"Yeah? Did she scream a lot?" John asked.  
"Surprisingly not. She didn't say anything. She just froze," Dean answered.  
"Really? That's disappointing," John said.

Dean stepped away from the table and walked closer to John.

"You know what's disappointing? When people breaks my trust and uses my line of work to commit a crime," he said.

John looked up at him as if he didn't understand what he meant.

"She had no idea what you did. You're fucking sick, John. You actually wanted your girlfriend to get raped," Dean continued.  
"Is that what she said? She's lying. And even if it was true, what does it matter to you? It's not like you can tell when you do it on a daily basis," John said.

Dean was about to lose it but he stopped as he heard her voice.

"You really did that to me, John?"

Both men looked at her.

"What is she doing here?" John asked.  
"So it's true? You wanted him to hurt me? Why, John?" She asked while tears filled her eyes.  
"Because I'm fucking sick of you always doing everything right! I wanted to see you messed up and broken just once!" John shouted as he jumped to his feet.  
"Not only did you want to hurt me. You wanted to frame an innocent man as well?" She was shouting too.  
"Who fucking cares about that piece of shit? He rapes women for a living!" John shouted.

A loud smack was heard as Dean's fist connected with John's jaw. He didn't stop there. He jumped the man, raining his fists down on his face and upper body again and again until he finally moved away with a loud growl. He grabbed the envelope from the table and walked away with fast footsteps.

"Let's go!" He shouted at her.

She ran after him and jumped back into the car. He started it and drove off.

"Where do you live?" He asked.

She gave him directions and he drove her home in silence. Once again he parked the car. He looked at her and handed her the envelope.

"Here, take it," he said.  
"I don't want it," she said.  
"I don't care. You're taking it. I'm sorry, alright? I don't know how else to make it up to you," he said.  
"I don't think you can," she said.  
"Just fucking take it!" He growled.

She snapped the envelope from his hand and opened the car door.

"Hey! Don't go back to him. Don't ever contact him again. If he tries any shit, you know where to find me," he said.  
"I'm not that stupid," she said.  
"I didn't think so. Just saying," he said.

She shut the car door and walked towards the house. He stayed and watched her unlock the door and get back inside safely before he started the car again and drove away.


End file.
